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I wore my cotehardie for intercamp dinner Monday evening, and discovered that a skin tight dress one makes before losing 40 pounds does not provide the necessary support after the loss. So Tuesday morning I put it on inside-out and Morgana marked it for me. Ladies and gentlemen, that dress lost 6 inches of circumference easily, and could probably stand to lose a bit more. But I don’t care, because I can wear it now. I’m told it looks good, too, which is always a bonus.

I went to the audition for Anne of the Thousand Days after all; it may be a classic, but I don’t like it. If I get a role, we’ll see whether I actually want to get back into theater for real. Sadly, I suspect I’m shallow enough that the decision will largely rest on what part I get.

I attended one class, which was not even roughly as advertised and kind of put me off classes–it claimed to be Fabric Wall Hangings, and the description talked about getting period effects with modern materials. What it actually was, was “Here are brands of fabric paint I use”. Hi: I can’t draw, so your fabric paint does me no good. I left when she pulled out the stencils.

The problem is, I love Pennsic, and I love my camp, but Shauna has so much shit it’s unbelievable. Last night, after two days of instantly doing whatever she told me, and most of three hours slinging lumber into the trailer, with the moon rising and the sun well down, I basically walked out of camp without saying goodbye because if I tried to talk to her I was going to fucking strangle her, I was so tired. We got back from the trailer and I was like, hey, time for me to go get Liam so we can go home–I should note that the entirety of La Familia had decamped for dinner because unlike Shauna, Ajax is not completely insane, and thus she and I were the only people around. But no, we had to move her bed out of the toolshed. Fine, did that. Then stuff from the toolshed needed to go into the rental truck. OK, so we did that and I’m all ready to go get in the car and get Liam when she starts taking the toolshed down. So we did that. She tried to get me to help her figure out how to collapse it, and at that point I simply started being stupid at her. It got worked out in the end, and I stuffed the cover bits in the bag and said I was leaving and that was as civil as I could manage. Made it to Clovenshield, greeted friends I hadn’t seen in months by bursting into tears out of sheer fatigue, and we finally got home at about 10:30. But at least Clovenshield gave me bacon.

I have no idea at it is about Sunday afternoons that tends to put me in a bad mood. Usually it’s cranky; today it’s melancholy, and not the pleasant kind.

I really wish I could get back into the SCA, or perhaps it’s that I’m sad that the SCA was never what I wanted it to be. Pennsic is coming up, which tends to make me maunder in this direction; it’s no surprise that today’s iteration of the Bad Mood points at it. I’m just tired of facing, yet again, the fact that politics are inescapable.